


learned to travel light

by LailaLiquorice



Category: Six - Marlow/Moss
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Emotional Baggage, Eventual Happy Ending, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, this one is heavy guys please take the warnings into account, well less happy than optimistic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 02:27:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20166634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LailaLiquorice/pseuds/LailaLiquorice
Summary: Anne was used to being told she was too much. It would only be so much time before her answer was to make herself less.





	learned to travel light

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hurricxneamelia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hurricxneamelia/gifts).

Anne was used to being told she was too much.

It was the epitome of everything she’d been criticised for in her old life: too loud, too opinionated, just too much for a queen. And somehow the comment occasionally followed through to this new life that she’d hoped so desperately would be a new fresh start. She was still too loud, still too opinionated, and too pushy on stage and constantly trying to make everything about her at the expense of her fellow queens. For the most part though, she could chalk those comments up to her just following the script since that was all people saw of her and not take them to heart too much.

But suddenly there was also the added ammunition of the twenty first century standards she’d suddenly found herself measured by. Suddenly it wasn’t just her personality that was too much. She was too tall, too awkward, standing out against the rest of the queens. It was enough to make her skin crawl whenever she put her costume and caught her reflection in the full length mirror.

Sat in her costume at the dressing room table after a show, a quick glance through social media while she got her breath back wiped the smile from her face as someone had thought to tag the show account in a hard hitting comment. ‘_Saw six for the first time and honestly couldn’t stand boleyn after 5 mins. Idk how the other queens put up with her when the show’s over. And she sticks out like a sore thumb in that skimpy outfit.’_

Shame burned at the back of her throat as she subconsciously covered the gap between her top and her skirt with one hand. Normally she loved her costume but in the space of a split second she felt uncomfortable with so much of herself on show, wishing she had a dress like Jane’s that didn’t leave her stomach and her arms and her legs so exposed.

“Oi! Cleves calling Boleyn, are you receiving?”

Anna’s shout made Anne jump in her seat, giving Anna a shaky smile as she laughed at her reaction. “Sorry Anna, in a world of my own there. Did you say something?”

“I said we’re all going to the pub for dinner when we’re changed, you coming?” Anna repeated.

Normally Anne would have nodded immediately, always eager to spend a night out with her friends after a tiring day. But her first thought instead went to the comments on her phone, the constant reminder of how she was too loud and too overbearing every time she refreshed the page. “Not tonight, gonna go home and go to bed early,” she said with a quick shake of her head.

Both Anna and Aragon looked surprised, but to Anne’s relief they didn’t comment on it. “Alright babes, get some rest,” Anna said, picking up her costume to take down to wardrobe before she left for the night. “Usual drill, let someone know you’re home and all that, alright?”

“Yeah,” Anne nodded, deliberately keeping her eyes trained on Anna so she didn’t have to meet Aragon’s concerned expression that she could feel boring into the side of her skull.

She looked back down at her phone as Anna left, waiting for Aragon to leave before she got changed into her own clothes since the thought of any more of her body being on view for scrutiny made her stomach knot. But she couldn’t keep avoiding Aragon when she walked over and leaned on the desk right next to where Anne was sitting. “Are you ok” she asked quietly.

Anne immediately plastered the most convincing smile she could muster on her face, desperately hoping that Aragon’s kind eyes couldn’t see through her mask. “Yeah, I’m fine, promise,” she said quickly, any gratitude for the concern quashed by her desperate wish that Aragon would leave her to her shame.

Aragon gave a nod of acceptance though her eyes betrayed her lack of conviction. “Alright. If you’re not having dinner with us then I’ve got some leftovers in the fridge from last night you can have,” she said, repeating Anna’s request that Anne let them know when she was home before she left and shut the dressing room door behind her.

The minute she was alone Anne sagged, not needing to keep up the pretence any longer. She closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself the energy to get up and go home and not just sit in her chair gathering dust until the next show, and after giving a tired huff she pushed herself up and started to take her hairpieces out. She deliberately kept her gaze towards the floor as changed out of her costume as fast as possibly but still managed to catch the odd glimpse of herself in the mirrors surrounding her and winced every time she did so.

Once home she did send a text to the group chat. But she didn’t eat Aragon’s leftovers.

* * *

The same pattern repeated itself several times more over the course of the next few weeks. It wasn’t only meals out, if a couple of the other queens were eating at the table together then Anne would come up with a hasty excuse to take her plate up to her room so she wouldn’t have to bother them by joining them. The more time progressed the fewer meals she would actually eat, more times than not just letting it go cold as she continued to distract herself with a tv show or something before emptying the plate into the bin once the others had gone to bed.

She didn’t know when the aim of her behaviour transitioned from avoiding mealtimes to avoiding meals themselves. The feeling of hunger became something she could fixate on to avoid thinking about how much she was burdening everyone. Having absolute control over her food felt like a lifeline after being so used to drifting uncontrollably through her past life dictated by others.

If she knew she had to be present for dinner then any thought of lunch would go out the window so she could compensate, and she’d spend the entire meal fidgeting in her chair and pushing food around her plate to distract from how little she was eating. She kept quiet for the most part so as not to bother the others with her presence but made sure she was chatty whenever someone spoke to her, desperately making sure that no-one picked up on anything she didn’t want them too. That no-one picked up on the fact that those mealtimes made her so anxious she wanted to cry.

When the hunger kept her up at night she distracted herself with the thought that she was doing everyone a favour. If everyone thought she was too much then she would make herself smaller; smaller emotionally, smaller physically, small enough that no-one could criticise her anymore.

It was only a few weeks before she started seeing changes whenever she could bear to look in the mirror. And as she stared at her reflection, hollow cheeks and angular shoulders and visible collarbones, she couldn’t quite make up her mind whether it scared her or not.

So she kept going.

The biggest change in her after noticing those results was that the usually cuddly and clingy Anne couldn’t bear the idea of anyone touching her anymore. It wasn’t the fear of being touched itself – secretly she still craved that as much as she refused to admit it to herself – it was the fear of anyone else noticing something different about her body. She knew that what she could see in the mirror had to be noticeable beneath other people’s hands, which was a risk she couldn’t take.

Shrinking beneath Anna patting her on the shoulder and wriggling out from Cathy’s arm around her or Jane and Kat’s hugs felt like an arrow to her own heart, but she knew she had to do it. What hurt the most though were the shadows of worry in Aragon’s eyes whenever she watched Anne doing so. The thought that she was disappointing Aragon above anyone else felt infinitely worse than she had ever expected it to.

She’d noticed Aragon keeping a close eye on her more and more as time and habits progressed, bringing her to try avoiding Aragon’s watchful gaze whenever humanely possible in an attempt to throw her off. But she knew that she couldn’t hide forever.

Anne was sat at the table in the kitchen that evening, elbows rested on the tabletop and head hanging between hunched shoulders. She’d done her usual routine of pretending to take her dinner upstairs but not taking a mouthful and emptying the plate as soon as everyone had gone to bed, but an unexpected wave of dizziness and exhaustion had left her near-collapsed on a chair with her empty plate next to her. Her breathing was heavy as she tried to ignore the dark spots in her vision, heart beating a panicky rhythm at the thought of someone walking into the kitchen and seeing her in that state.

Sure enough, the sound of someone coming down the stairs was followed by the kitchen light being flicked on and a soft gasp as she was spotted. Anne screwed her eyes shut as the footsteps continued towards her, knowing it was too late to make a run for it now even if she thought her shaking knees would be able to carry her up two flights of stairs.

“Anne?”

It was Aragon. Anne hardly responded to the sound of her name being called, just winced slightly when she placed a gentle hand on Anne’s arm after sitting down beside her. “Anne, what’s going on?”

Anne couldn’t make herself answer for a couple of seconds, her mind too occupied by the emptiness in her stomach and her unsteady breathing and the fear that Aragon could feel every bone in her shoulderblade. “Nothing’s going on, I’m fine,” she answered, but even she could hear the weariness in her voice.

“Don’t.” Aragon’s tone was firm yet gentle as she shook her head, and when she removed her hand from Anne’s shoulder Anne managed to look round and just about meet her gaze. “Don’t say that. I know something’s wrong. There’s things I’ve noticed that aren’t ok and I’m worried about you.”

She might have continued to push Aragon away if it wasn’t for that last comment. It was the first indication she’d been given that what she was doing to herself wasn’t better for the other queens, that they might have possibly been happy with her the way she was. Even while the louder voice in her mind shoved that idea away almost immediately, she couldn’t help the shaky “What?” that escaped her lips.

Even with the forgiveness in Aragon’s voice softening the blow, Anne couldn’t help but feel as if she was being read out a list of her crimes. “You’re quieter, you look exhausted all the time, you don’t have the same energy during the show that you used to. And while the others all think you’re just having an off few weeks, I think I know what the cause of it might be.”

Anne was silent as she watched Aragon tap the plate that was still sat like a barrier between them.

“Back in the time following Arthur’s death I was kept here to wait for Henry to come of age,” Aragon started after a long pause. Anne wondered briefly why there was such a note of hesitation in her voice and glimmer of fear in her eyes, but that was answered as soon as she continued. “I was a pawn for both our fathers; I had no control over my life and my future. So I took control over one of the few things I had the power too.”

“Food,” Anne said quietly, filling in the blank where she paused.

Aragon gave a single nod. “I fasted excessively during those years. I believed it would bring me closer to God, hoped that He would be more inclined to answer my prayers and secure my future. It became an obsession with surviving on as little food as I could and I welcomed the suffering it caused me, since like many I believed that pain brought me closer to Christ.”

She broke off with a rough sigh before adding “but I did suffer. I made myself ill for most of those seven years; stomach pains, fevers, cold sweats, headaches and dizzy spells.” After another pause to let her words sink in, she asked “Do some of those sound familiar?” as she looked into Anne’s eyes.

“Mhm,” Anne hummed almost silently. Now that she knew Catherine understood what was going through her head she didn’t try to pretend otherwise.

“I thought so,” Aragon said, reaching out to take Anne’s hand in hers as she continued. “And that’s why I want to help you. Because I know how much of a vicious cycle this is and how hard it is to break out of it. I could never eat properly for the rest of my life after I let it go on for so long and I don’t want that for you. We want the old Anne back who comes out with us and dances around and smiles more, we miss you.”

Clearing her throat almost embarrassedly, she finished with a mumbled “I, err, I miss you.”

Staring at their conjoined hands, Anne couldn’t quite work out who’s hand was trembling the most. Hers, from lack of food, or Catherine’s.

“I’m fine though,” she heard herself saying before she was fully aware of it, pulling her hand from Aragon’s and moving to stand from her chair. She almost pitched over sideways as her head spun for a second, but she refused to let herself accept the hand held out to steady her and instead caught herself on the kitchen counter. “I know what I’m doing. I’m not gonna let myself get sick or anything. I just… I’m better this way, alright? I’m not too much anymore and that’s better for everyone.”

“Anne, please-“

“No!” she choked out in a tone nearing hysteria, hot tears threatening to spill as she backed away from the temptation of Aragon’s help. She was better how she was, she had to keep telling herself that. “Thank you, really, but I don’t need anyone’s help.”

She couldn’t look at Aragon’s expression before turning tail and sprinting up the stairs towards her room, throwing herself onto her bed as she sobbed with self-hatred and guilt.

Aragon’s words kept playing over and over throughout the mostly sleepless night, keeping Anne awake with longing for that lifeline she’d been thrown and regret for how she’d essentially chucked it back in Aragon’s face. Part of her wanted to keep pushing onwards, still convinced that she was doing the right thing and making the right choice, but the voice in her head screaming for her to stop was speaking up again after months of being silenced. It was enough to keep her up for hours, only dozing off as the first hints of dawn peeked in from under her curtains and jolting awake as her alarm blared barely a few hours later.

She avoided Aragon like the plague the next day as much as it hurt her, feeling more like she was missing something the further away they were. But Anne couldn’t deny that something from Aragon’s conversation had clicked in her mind since she realised during their warmup how tired she already felt, how little conversation she joined in with in the dressing room, and how loosely her skirt sat around her hips when it had once hugged her waist comfortably.

Suddenly she found herself disliking her body for a new reason entirely.

The dregs of exhaustion clung on as the day progressed, and somehow the nap she took between the shows left her feeling even more groggy and spaced out than she’d done after finishing the matinee. While waiting behind the curtain before the evening show a sudden spell of dizziness had her sagging onto Anna’s throne for a moment as her legs threatened to give up on her again, ignoring the worried looks that Kat and Jane both sent her. She was fine. She could make it through the show, she couldn’t let her friends down like that.

And she was right, but only just.

She vaguely realised as Jane’s section of the megasix was transitioning into Anna’s that she’d stopped singing at some point and hadn’t even realised it, her mouth forming the words but not a single sound coming out. She managed to keep dancing though, making sure she was at the back of the group so that the audience would focus on the rest of the queens and not notice anything was wrong. Her normally shouted ‘Beheaded!’ was barely a squeak as she realised her sight was blurring again and it was nothing to do with the stage lights.

Straightening up after taking a bow made her head spin so much that she thought she was going to fall over there and then. Black static spotted around her vision and her legs felt like cotton wool as she realised she needed to get off stage immediately.

Dancing around with the other queens before they left the stage was forgotten when the music kicked back in, taking full advantage of her position at the end of the line to make a stumbling exit.

She didn’t make it more than two steps into the wing before her vision turned to black and she fell, legs folding underneath her as she hit the ground hard and didn’t get up.

* * *

A couple of hours later found Anne curled up on the sofa with a blanket wrapped around her

Her soft cries went unheard and tears unseen in the dark room, since she’d made no indication to the other queens that she was awake yet. She could hear them all talking in the kitchen through the connecting wall, unable to pick out any individual words though she could still sense the tension in the conversation just by the quiet and strained way they were all talking.

Guilt twisted at her stomach when she realised she’d done that. She’d created that worry, she’d put herself in danger despite Aragon’s warning, she’d let them down. 

She could still see their terrified faces as she’d come round from fainting as if they were burned into her mind. Aragon’s eyes were the first she saw since she cradled Anne’s head in her lap to keep her off the unforgiving floor, with Jane and Kat each gripping onto one of her hands and Anna and Cathy crouched beside them. The sheer volume of love and sorrow in their expressions had been too overwhelming to look at as she turned her face into Aragon’s lap to hide her tears, too weak to protest as she was picked up like she was lighter than a feather and carried away from the stage.

As the hall light flickered on and footsteps left the kitchen she hid her face in her blanket this time, expecting that someone would check on her and not wanting them to catch her crying yet again that day. She’d hardly stopped during the journey home, bundled into a taxi and squashed in between Kat and Cathy with their legs pressed up against hers. Normally it was Cathy who was always forced to sit in the middle since she was the smallest queen by far, and the fact that Anne was now sat in her place somehow drove her reality home again just like her ill-fitting costume had done earlier that day.

The living room door being pushed open spilled light into the room, illuminating Anne’s damp cheeks despite the blanket pulled up to her nose. “Oh sweetheart,” sighed Jane’s soft voice, closing the door and turning on one of the lamps to fill the room with a warm glow.

Anne scrambled to sit up as Jane moved to sit beside her, keeping the blanket wrapped around her as if it could shield her from the conversation she knew was coming. She was almost surprised that it wasn’t Aragon there since she’d spoken to her the night before and had the best idea of what she was going through, and that thought drove her to blurt out “Is Catherine mad at me?” before Jane had a chance to speak.

“Of course she isn’t love,” Jane said soothingly, the assuredness in her face calming Anne’s fear. “She looked exhausted so I told her to get some rest. None of us are angry at you, we’re just all so worried.”

She didn’t react at first, just felt slightly uncomfortable at the idea of everyone worrying so much about her. None of them deserved that.

A minute of comfortable silence passed, before Jane turned to face her and began the conversation she’d been dreading. “Anne, love, I’m going to ask you something and I want you to be as honest as you can be, alright? I’m not going to be disappointed at anything you tell me, I just want you to be honest,” she said, waiting for Anne to give the tiniest nod before she asked “Have you eaten anything today?”

“A bit,” Anne said truthfully, though what might have once been a defensive tone of voice was reduced to a quiet mumble. “I had breakfast, and I had a something between the shows. I didn’t not eat anything.”

“But that’s never going to keep you going for two shows love. Our food is our fuel, and you can’t perform while running on empty.”

Anne didn’t have the words to comment on that, still trapped in a mindset where she wasn’t ready to confirm it but didn’t have the strength to deny it anymore. Instead she just asked “What were you all talking about in the kitchen earlier?” while rubbing beneath her eyes with a rough hand.

Jane seemed to pause for a moment as if trying to find the right words to start with. “We were speaking about you but I promise it was nothing bad at all. Catherine told us a few things that she was worried about and we were discussing how we might be able to help you. Because we want to help you sweetheart, if you’ll let us.”

There was something about the pleading look in Jane’s eyes and the gentle offer in her words that made Anne crack at long last. Months’ worth of anguish poured out as she sobbed into her hands, before Jane wrapped her up into a hug and Anne clung onto her with all the strength she had left in her worn-down limbs. Jane whispered soft assurances in her ear as she shuddered and shook within her embrace, rubbing Anne’s back comfortingly with one hand as she held her close while she cried.

“I don’t want to be like this anymore,” Anne choked out after a while, pulling back a little to look at Jane through red-rimmed eyes. “I hate it so much, I thought I was making things better but it’s so much worse. And I don’t know what do to. I want help, I just need help.”

“We’re here to help you love, we’re here and we’re not going to let you get worse, I promise,” Jane said, reaching out to push a strand of dark hair away from Anne’s face and gently wipe the tears streaming down one cheek.

Anne nodded, letting Jane pull her back in to rest against her with her head resting on her chest. Jane was soft and comfy and everything that Anne wasn’t with all her sharp angles and bony joints – if Jane was mum shaped then Anne was skeleton shaped, she realised with a tang of bitterness on her tongue. She was still at war with herself over how she felt towards her body, half of her looking at the changes with relish and the other half with disgust, but with the day she’d had she was leaning very firmly towards the latter.

But those thoughts all quietened down as Jane held her close despite how Anne knew she could probably feel the outline of her ribs and hip with the hand on Anne’s waist. A fresh wave of exhaustion crashed over her and she tried to lift her head against the sudden tiredness, though gave up when Jane let out a soft chuckle and stroked a hand over her hair. “You can sleep love, it’s alright,” she whispered, giving Anne the permission she needed to close her eyes. “You’re safe now, tomorrow is a new start and we’re all here beside you.”

It was a scary prospect, challenging the habits that had become her safety net over the last few months. But she was tired of pushing herself into a mould that was too small for other people’s satisfaction. The faintest hint of a smile graced her features as she slipped into sleep and waited for her brighter dawn.

**Author's Note:**

> Being open, it’s pretty much four thousand words of projection which I’ve wanted to write for a long time and has been a little bit therapeutic to be honest. Anyone is so welcome to message me if they need to talk to someone about this topic, anyone at all. I poured my heart out into this one and I’m really proud of it but please take care of yourselves.
> 
> My amazing sibling @jarneiarichardnxel on tumblr (hurricxneamelia here) wrote a character study from Aragon’s point of view which offshoots from this which you can find on their tumblr, titled 'Control'. Abs I love you so much and thank you for always being up for our headcanon sessions <3
> 
> I'm lailaliquorice on tumblr :)


End file.
